Just Haven't Met You Yet
by barefoot11
Summary: Toris is set up on a blind date, doubled with that of a coworker. But what happens when he falls for his coworker's date, and not his own? Oh, as if he didn't have something to worry about before... AU, Human names used, Poland/Lithuania, Prussia/Canada


-Feliks-

Feliks wasn't desperate – he was simply bored, and a bit lonely. Combine that with internet access and you got entertainment. He lay on his stomach toward the foot of his bed with his laptop glowing before him (the lights were off, and he didn't want to bother to turn them back on). He chewed constantly on his bottom lip, browsing the photos and descriptions with a critical eye. He didn't want to be set up with a creep…

Despite his intentions, the profile that met his eye was one without a picture. And the description merely said – _If I post a picture, it'd be too awesome and probably explode the web. You'll have to find out for yourself. ;D_

It did catch his interest. Too awesome for the internet? Was there such a thing? He had seen a lot of awesome stuff on the internet…

And this 'awesome' person lived within his area, too – to Feliks, it was destiny.

He sent a message.

**PolishPinkPony**: _I like, have to see this awesomeness for myself._

The reply came half-an-hour later – so Mr. Awesome was a late-night internet browser as well, hm.

**VitalInvader**: _You're cute, judging by your profile pic… okay. I only hope you can handle me. ;D_

**PolishPinkPony**: _Oh, like, you're on._

They discussed details – where they were to meet, when, and gave brief descriptions of what they'd be wearing. Then Mr. Awesome had a proposition.

**VitalInvader**: _Hey, do ya mind if we double-date? I have a co-worker who's doing this thing too, but he's kinda a wimp and doesn't want to be alone in case his date's a creep. That's the only reason I'm here… I told him he was crazy, but… /:_

Feliks thought this over and realized he wouldn't mind the extra people in case VitalInvader was a creep himself.

**PolishPinkPony**: _No, that's totally fine._

**VitalInvader**: _I like ya already. ;D_

**PolishPinkPony**: _Like, emoticon overuse, much?_

**VitalInvader**: _Quiet, you. P:_

Feliks wasn't in his Sunday best – but he didn't look sleazy, either. He wore a presentable yellow shirt (it had a collar, how much more fancy could you get?) with light green slacks. He hadn't been so sure over the colors initially, but he needed to stand out. The restaurant was very busy, even for a Saturday afternoon – at times, Feliks had to shoo people away from his table.

So for quite a while he sat alone at that desirable four-person booth near the window. He was sure he'd been stood-up when a group of three pushed through the doors.

There was a tallish albino, looking flustered with his face as flushed as they could get – he wore a modest gray T-shirt with purple jeans. _That must be the friend_, Feliks thought, though he was wearing something similar to what VitalInvader had described.

Then there was a blonde with glasses with an ensemble similar to Feliks's own – a white collared shirt with red slacks. _Copy-cat_, Feliks accused in his mind.

And then there was the cutie next to them. He was brunette and looked simply adorable in his brown jacket, white shirt, and jeans. _He was right_, Feliks thought, _the image of him _would_ blow up the internet_…

Feliks was near giddy – he had heard that blind dates always ended up with the other person being completely ugly or entirely not-your-type, but he was sure he had won the lottery with this one. He was confused why he wasn't wearing what he'd said, but that was beside the point.

He stood – maybe a bit too excitedly – and waved them over. "Yo!"

The tall one's eyes were the first to spot him. He guided the other two over to him, and greeted him with a smile. "Hello."

Feliks was annoyed – the albino was blocking his way of the cutie! "Yeah, hi," he dismissed, before moving over to the brunette. He put his hand out. "You must, like, be VitalInvader."

Instantly, he blushed, and his eyes couldn't focus on him – he stared at the floor. (_How cute_, Feliks mentally squealed.) He shook his hand (_What soft hands!_) but also shook his head. "N-No, I'm sorry. That's not me."

Brought down from his high, Feliks admonished, "What? How, like…" He scanned his eyes over the other two, and saw the tall one looking at him abusedly.

"VitalInvader. That's me," he said. And then he confirmed, "You're PolishPinkPony, right?"

Feliks scrunched up his nose. "Oh. Yeah… that's… like me." He looked back to the brunette, desperate. "Then, like, who are you?"

He looked more nervous. "I'm Toris – Gilbert's co-worker."

"Gilbert?"

"Me," said the tall one.

Feliks thought that Toris was a way better name.

But as Toris turned soft green eyes to him, Feliks's woes were momentarily swayed. "You're Polish?" he asked.

Feliks nodded. "Polish and proud!"

Toris smiled, and it was the greatest thing he had even seen. "I'm actually Lithuanian myself, I –"

"Okay, can we sit down now? Some people are trying to steal our table," said Gilbert, looking around.

"Oh." Feliks rushed over, stealing the seat against the window. Rather forcefully, he took Toris's sleeve, making him sit beside him. But Toris didn't seem to mind at all.

So Gilbert sat in front of Feliks, and that mysterious blonde man beside Gilbert, turning red as he did so.

"Who are you?" Feliks asked bluntly.

"I'm Matthew," said the blonde, not fully looking up.

Toris said, "And I'm not sure I caught your name…"

Feliks was happy to supply it. "I'm Feliks Łukasiewicz, nice to meet you!"

Gilbert furrowed his eyebrows. "Your last name's a mouthful."

"So is yours," said Toris, in a laugh. "Weillschmidt – how are you supposed to get that right on the first try?"

"So is yours," Gilbert testily replied. "Lorinaitis – how many years did it take you to be able to spell it?"

Feliks smiled, finding all of that hilarious. He regarded Matthew with a cheeky grin. "And what, like, your last name is something simple like 'Williams', am I right?" He said it in complete sarcasm – he knew four Williams's.

Matthew exploded in color. "It – It is, actually." He had wide eyes, like a deer's. "Williams."

...Now he knew _five_ Williams's…

Feliks had the decency to look completely blown away. "Oh my God, no way!"

"Yes way," he replied breathily, still looking frightened.

They fell into a silence, Feliks figuring that he probably had ESP all along… then he shook his head, letting his hair fall into his face until he said, "Well, that's like, awesome."

"Kinda creepy, if you ask me," said Gilbert, leaning back into the cushions of his seat and making himself comfortable.

Feliks glared at him.

Toris broke the atmosphere with, "So what do you do for a living, Matthew?"

Feliks was a bit saddened – why was Toris taking such an interest in Matthew? But then he remembered that they were supposed to be on a double-date. Toris with Matthew, him with that annoying Gilbert… it was _not_ fair. He knew, at that point, he was supposed to make conversation with Gilbert, but he wasn't feeling it.

"Um, I'm a cook at the IHop… I just make pancakes all day, really…" Matthew half-smiled. "Doesn't pay that well, but it's only temporary."

Gilbert seemed interested. "I love pancakes."

Matthew laughed at the other's excitement. "Oh, trust me, I do too."

They began talking about pancake flavors, so Feliks nudged Toris familiarly.

"Pssst, Toris," Feliks said lowly, leaning over to him. "Gilbert totally isn't my type…"

-Toris-

Toris automatically flushed. Why was Feliks telling _him_ this, of all people? But he couldn't help but be a bit selfish and question quietly, "What _is_ your type, then?"

He freaked out. That question was _way_ too direct, despite the fact that it had sounded more subtle in his mind. Toris fiddled with the silverware in front of him, hoping the waiter would arrive soon and relieve him of the torture of hearing the answer break his spirit.

"Hmmm…" Feliks was nearly on top of him (maybe he wasn't, but it felt like it) and began to mess with Toris's collar, taking no heed to personal space. "Someone totally cute… pretty eyes, ya know, with silky hair…"

Toris nearly died when Feliks threaded his fingers through his brown locks and hummed in approval.

"Someone who doesn't mind paying the bills… because I totally must tell you, Toris, I'm a shopaholic and not ashamed to admit it."

That accented voice was running wild in Toris's head, making goose-bumps rise on his skin. His mouth went momentarily dry, but Feliks continued.

"And, like, they'd have to be totally head-over-heels in love with me or it wouldn't be, like, worth it." He paused thoughtfully, moving back to sit in his respectable spot. "But you know, I don't really have a type beside that, I just, like, like who I like. What about you?"

Darn it. That question was clearly aimed at him like a pointed arrow. Feliks couldn't have gotten slyer if he tried… Toris gripped hard on the spoon he'd been messing with for a second before saying unsteadily, "Y-Yeah, that's the s-same with me, too."

Feliks smiled like a cat – a totally attractive, beautiful cat – and said simply, "Oh."

_Oh_? Was that all he had to say? Toris began to sweat. Was that an 'oh' of admittance, or one of repulse? He couldn't possibly read one little utterance efficiently… Feliks only sounded mysterious, and that was about it.

But what if, in the first place, the question had been just as innocent as the words applied? Then Toris would have sounded like a total idiot for agreeing and not going into detail!

Argh, when was that darn waiter coming? He wasn't sure if he could stand the tension anymore.

Then he remembered – Matthew was supposed to be his date! What was he doing with Feliks?

To be honest, Matthew was simply a bit too nice for his tastes. He liked someone with spunk, and by Matthew's first impression, he didn't seem to have it. Sure, that was being quick to judge, but Feliks just seemed to be _perfect_. So just as Feliks wasn't interested in Gilbert, Toris just didn't see himself with Matthew.

He saw himself with Feliks.

Wildly, he shook those thoughts away. That was being rude; simply waving off his date… but Feliks was just…

With war in his mind, Toris was grateful when the waiter came for their orders.

-Francis-

"I'll be your waiter for today; what can I get you gentlemen this fine afternoon?" Francis had on his biggest grin.

The group all shuffled through their menus – it was odd that none of them had even glanced over them… but they all made up their minds pretty quickly, and Francis wrote them down in accordance.

His favorite thing to do was to write down the orders, and then – so he'd remember who they belonged to – he'd write the most noticeable features of their owners down next to them. People called him quirky, but that didn't matter.

The sandwich went to the red-eyed white-haired one. (_Jeeze_, Francis thought, _I couldn't forget that if I tried…_)

The soup went to the cute little blonde. (Francis loved the small curl jutting out from his head; it took all of what he had not to poke it.) And he thought for a moment – the blonde looked ridiculously familiar… where did he know him?

The chicken was the Valley girl's. (Francis knew that it was a man sitting there – but the accent wasn't a man's.)

And the modest brunette got the salad. (_He's very good-looking_, Francis reflected, _but he does absolutely _nothing_ with it…_)

Francis nodded. "Yes, alright. I'll be back in a moment!" And before he left, he did manage to pat that cute blonde's head.

-Matthew-

Matthew flushed. He knew Francis wouldn't leave without a small gesture… he was too touchy-feely not to. He self-consciously adjusted his hair where it had been touched.

"Who's that?" Gilbert demanded, and when Matthew looked at him, he saw his eyes dancing in – was it true? – jealousy. (Matthew could drown in those eyes if he wasn't careful…)

He smiled a bit. "Oh, we used to go to school together…" _Just vague enough to make him go crazy_, Matthew thought.

Gilbert frowned. "He needs to learn to keep his hands to himself…"

Matthew was in bliss. He laughed and said, "I've tried. He simply doesn't understand why everyone doesn't touch either as much as he'd like…"

That was awkward. The smile was gone and Matthew blushed a bit – it was such an odd phrasing, despite its truth. He could have simply said, 'I've tried. He never listens.' What was so bad about that, huh?

He was quickly digging himself into a hole, and he wasn't sure if he knew how to get out.

Gilbert huffed, with a quick rise-and-fall of his chest (that Matthew surely wasn't paying attention to). "Sounds like a creep."

"That's everyone's first impression of him," Matthew justified quickly. "Don't worry; he's a pretty nice guy when you get to know him…"

Matthew was still in that hole. Their first conversation had been about pancakes – and now they were talking about Francis. How were they going to be able to talk about _them_? Matthew wanted to know about _him_, not about Francis… he knew way too much about Francis already…

"Believable," Gilbert allowed, his arms crossed (blocking Matthew's view, darn). Then he cast his (very mystic and sexy) eyes out of the window, letting a pause come into their conversation before he observed, "Seems like our dates hit it off with each other."

Matthew blinked. _Who?_ But then he recalled who else they were with, and looked across the table. Sure enough, Feliks was talking excitedly to Toris, who was smiling wider than he had ever smiled at Matthew. It was pretty weird – the booth truly wasn't that big and yet each pair seemed to have escaped to another world. Matthew was just catching onto what Feliks was saying…

"So I'm like, 'I don't care if your daughter wants it lady, I totally need this pony.' And you know what she did? She completely took the box from my hands and like, ran off with it! I was soooo mad."

Matthew wasn't sure what was going on, but Toris laughed and said, "Did you ever get it?"

"Well, yeah," replied Feliks, "but I had to order it online and it took, like, a week to get here…"

Careful not to let Gilbert think he was letting go of their conversation, Matthew looked fully to him. "Oh, that's…" He swam through so many adjectives in his mind before blurting, "a shame…" But luckily for him, his voice didn't sound the least bit sorrowful.

Gilbert smirked (ah, Matthew nearly fainted…). He chuckled and leaned closer to him. In a quiet (completely binding and sensual) voice he murmured, "I think you're more awesome then him, anyway."

Did he just go to heaven? He laughed giddily and agreed, "You are, too." And he couldn't have been himself because he prodded Gilbert's side as he said it.

Flirting! Matthew could have knelt over and died – he was _flirting_. He hadn't done that… in years! And his flirting was even obvious, not those subtle glances-when-they-aren't-looking that he used to do. He was actually initiating physical contact between them… ah, man; there must've been something in those complimentary mints they handed out at the door…

Gilbert laughed. "You can say that again."

And heaven almighty – his mind momentarily clouded, and he _said it again_.

"You are, too," Matthew repeated with a smile, looking up at him with shining eyes.

Gilbert leaned over to him once more and rested an elbow on his shoulder. He said, just against the shell of his ear, "Well, aren't you a keeper?"

The proximity reminded Matthew of himself. Why in the world was he being so careless and so… confident? It wasn't like him! He shouldn't flirting so recklessly – it was like homewrecking, since Gilbert was supposed to be with Feliks…

But not really…

He couldn't get a firm grasp on what he wanted – he wanted Gilbert, sure, that was the most obvious thing; but he wasn't sure if he was going about it the right way.

Although whatever he was doing seemed to be working…

He swallowed any troubles he had, deciding to lose all of his logic and just wing it.

-Gilbert-

Gilbert wasn't a fool – he saw the conflict flashing through the cute one's eyes. He just couldn't bring himself to care. From the first meeting, Gilbert knew that Feliks had his eyes on Toris and on Toris only – and that only helped the fact that Gilbert liked Matthew from the moment they met.

So why was Matthew being so nervous? The tables had only shifted – nothing was wrong with that!

And true to his nature, Gilbert set out to prove it.

He – lightly, but still demandingly – pounded his fist onto the table, moving away from Matthew inadvertently (darn it…) as he did so. "Hey, guys," he said to the pair in front of him, bringing them out of their fluid conversation. "I think we all got off-track."

Toris looked ashamed, but Feliks looked pissed at having his conversation interrupted.

Feliks asked, "Like, what are you talking about?"

Gilbert pointed a finger at him. "Don't you forget why we're here in the first place, Mr. PolishPinkPony."

Feliks winced. "But, like, you're so… not my type," he explained, in a whine. His hand gripped Toris's sleeve, making Toris turn red.

Gilbert couldn't agree more. After the first few seconds, that accent had really grated on his nerves. (When they had messaged each other, he had thought it was simply for the sake of flirting – but lo and behold, it was his real voice!) So how could he possibly be expected to spend the rest of his life with it? He nodded solemnly. "Same here, buddy…" But then he pulled on a smirk and continued, "but I'm guessing Toris is?"

-Francis-

He was almost toppling over, but Francis knew it was worth it. Eavesdropping was his favorite weekend activity, and with the drama unfolding at table three… oh, it was worth the weight of two fully-loaded trays. He remained pressed against the wall behind the group, and trained his ears to their voices.

Mr. PolishPinkPony (Francis was sure that wasn't his name, but it was the only one given…) said excitedly, "Well, like, yeah."

Francis really wished he could see their faces…

Mr. Albino-Man (making up names was kind of fun…) replied, "And Toris – I'm guessing Matthew isn't your cup of tea?"

Matthew! Gosh, how could Francis have forgotten? He was that cute kid who sat next to him in science class in high school! He was in a lot of other classes, too, but that was the only one in which they talked. Matthew was such a cutie…

Toris sounded really regretful. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't worry about it," said Matthew; he had always been the kind one. But by his voice, Francis realized he actually meant it…

Mr. Albino-Man, with a tone of triumph, told them, "Well, there's an easy way to fix this!"

From behind Francis, his boss appeared with his signature air of doom. "Francis, what are you doing?"

Francis nearly dropped everything, but he returned his composure quickly. He turned around to face his superior and confessed, "...Eavesdropping..."

He had learned that, with Arthur, sugar-coating or making excuses was pointless. It only got you into deeper trouble.

Arthur boomed, "Well, I've told you this time and time again – stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and serve them their bloody food!"

(He had said it multiple times… in the same format…)

In response, Francis stuck his nose in the air and said starkly, "Fine then!" He moved, with the precision only a waiter could have, out into the serving area until he was before table three. When he arrived, there was a notable difference.

None of them appeared awkward, or at war. They all shared smiles and looked at him expectantly.

"Oh, I'm so glad you got it all straightened out," Francis sighed, relieved. From the very first time he had came to their table he had thought Toris and Mr. PolishPinkPony had been an item, while Matthew had snagged Mr. Albino-Man. How odd that it had been just the opposite! So the glee he represented when it was all sorted out was evident. He began placing their orders out before them.

"What the heck are you talking about it?" demanded Albino-Man (ha ha; that sort of sounded like a super hero…), looking peeved.

Francis then remembered that, _oh, they didn't know he'd been listening!_ But he didn't want them to know, either. (He'd gotten in a lot of trouble for previous offences, and Arthur told him if one more customer complained that he was listening in on their conversation, he'd be fired. Gulp.) "Oh – um – y-your tie," he stuttered, nodding his head to Toris. "It was crooked before, you see…"

Toris blushed, and Francis felt bad, since his tie hadn't been crooked in the first place. "Oh, well…"

Francis knew there was nothing to say, so he respected Toris's lack of response and nodded surely. "Yep! Enjoy your meal!"

But before he left, he fleetingly touched Matthew's shoulder. "Matthew! It's so nice to see you again. We must catch up sometime, _oui_?" He winked, and left.

* * *

"_Oui_," Matthew replied, surely, his grin wide. But Francis was already gone, seemingly disappeared from thin air. Francis was good for doing that.

"As your boyfriend, I forbid you from catching up with him," Gilbert announced, replaying all of the touches Francis gave out to Matthew in his mind and filing them as something he didn't want.

Matthew laughed. "Wait, what are you talking about? You're not my –"

Interrupting, Gilbert implied, "I'd like to be." He cocked his head to the side, in Matthew's opposite direction, trying to look confident; but in reality, he knew he couldn't bear to look at Matthew as the other replied.

But Matthew's eyes shined, his happiness reflecting in them. It was a sight to behold, but Gilbert was missing it in his apprehension. "I guess we could give it a try," he said quietly, his reluctance only for show.

Gilbert looked to him, his smile the widest yet. "Awesome!"

"You can say that again."

Feliks nudged Toris – he simply couldn't get enough of the feeling of their skin touching – and suggested, none-too-innocently, "We should, like, do that too." His eyes were stars at the prospect.

Toris had been eating his salad, politely refraining from overhearing Matthew and Gilbert's conversation. With his mouth full, he looked to Feliks, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Feliks rolled his eyes and nudged him playfully again. "Like, totally become a couple," he supplied.

Very slowly, Toris finished chewing and then swallowed. He was still for a moment afterward, until he gathered every wit and shred of courage he had to reply. "If – If you'd like to," he mumbled, his uncertainty painting itself red over his face.

"Like, totally!" Feliks squealed, a bit too loudly, as he wrapped his arms around Toris's shoulders.

And Toris just laughed.

* * *

**A/N**: And they lived happily ever after. –heart–

This is dedicated to **orangepencils** – this was her idea, after all, to combine our OTPs into one fic! ^3^

I think I should have ended it a lot differently, but I thought it was kind of cute (if unrealistic) so I left it…

Anyway, spread the PolLiet/PruCan love~! Byebye~!


End file.
